


Stars of Home

by Lionescence



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, based on artwork, set around s1-s2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 05:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionescence/pseuds/Lionescence
Summary: Under an alien sky, under a canopy of unknown stars, Keith is lost.Shiro finds him.





	Stars of Home

**Author's Note:**

> Last year, I commissioned a piece of artwork from [yumikoyuki](http://yumikoyuki.tumblr.com/) and recently she got in touch to ask if she could include that artwork as part of an art book she is putting together. Of course, I said yes! And later, I found out she was asking for fics to accompany some of the art in the book. 
> 
> She let me write this piece to accompany the one I commissioned. I hope you like it, and if you do, please check out her art and consider getting her art book. She is a lovely human being and ever so kind and talented.
> 
> Here is a [link](http://yumikoyuki.tumblr.com/post/159754778124/a-wallpaper-commission-i-made-for-dragonescence) to the art!

The red sand dunes stretched as far as he could see, unmoving despite the gentle breeze. Keith wondered if it was because it wasn’t actually sand, something heavier maybe. Or if it was sand after all, but this planet’s gravity was just that little bit heavier that it kept the dunes stable. Whatever the reason, it was close enough to home, close enough to the desert that was his childhood playground, that was his training arena, that was the place he escaped to in his grief. Where his toddler feet touched down for the first time, and where he left his last earthly footprints.

Night fell fast on this planet: it wasn’t so long ago that everything was bathed in the warm orange glow of the setting sun, but orange soon became pale pink, and then crushed violet, before a deep velvety blanket of indigo took over, and the stars came out one by one, shining like little holes punched into the sky, letting faraway light in.

He shouldn’t be missing home. He hadn’t had a home for so long. But no matter how hard he tried, the red sands were just a few shades off, the sky foreign, and the stars weren’t the same. They didn’t shape the constellations his father had shown him, taught him. There was no north star that he could navigate by. Just another alien sky masquerading as something familiar.

Much like himself.

“GAC for your thoughts?”

He fought the uptick of the corner of his mouth at the sound of that voice. Wherever his thoughts may go, however dark, that voice would always bring him back. “What’s the exchange rate?”

He didn’t know how, but he could hear the smile and the shrug in the reply. “American or British penny? I’d ask Coran, but I might regret it.”

A warm presence emerged on Keith’s left, and immediately he felt a little more anchored, a little more together, a little more himself. But that was always Shiro. From the day he handed Keith that little card with an address on it, Shiro had kept Keith grounded, kept him solid and true. Unasked, Shiro had seen and proceeded to unearth all the good in him that he had forgotten about. Shiro had seen the boy who loved his father, who was loved in return, and if not for him Keith would have lost all his kindness, all his sweetness.

He didn’t like to think about who he would have become if not for Shiro.

“You’re thinking too hard again.”

“There are few things I do idly, Shiro.”

A shoulder he knew to be powerful bumped against his own oh-so-gently. “Even so. You know I worry when you’re not quite here.”

“I’m here,” he replied, low and quiet, like he was uncertain, like it was a secret.

“You sure?”

Keith turned his head just enough to catch a glimpse of Shiro’s face, of his storm-grey eyes. They were warm, questioning without pushing. “I’m here as long as you are.”

Shiro let out a soft chuckle, and slung his arm over Keith’s shoulder to pull him close to his side. Keith went easily, nestling into the heat and strength of Shiro’s body. They said nothing for a while, just Keith breathing in Shiro’s scent, feeling his metal hand pass up and down over his bicep, every so often squeezing a little, as if to say, _Don’t go anywhere. Stay here with me. I’m right here._

Eventually, Shiro hummed thoughtfully, and said, “It’s not quite Arizona, is it? Everything is just a few shades off.”

“It’s the stars,” Keith murmured. “I keep thinking I see something familiar, and then I realize I can’t map them right.” _I realize I am lost._

Again, he could almost hear the smile in Shiro’s voice. “I guess that’s the difference between you and me. We both love the stars — I don’t know if we could have been friends if we didn’t — but I keep the stars up there. Something to… I don’t know. Worship. Give offerings to. Maybe it’s the Shinto in me. But you. You hold them in your hands, and ask them where to go. And they tell you.”

“Mmm.” Because Keith’s father had been a practical man who saw no use for gods and worship, who had lived purely by a code of his own, one he’d passed to his son. His father respected nature, respected fire, respected the stars, and they had all served him well till the end, even when it had been fire that had killed him.

_“Reverence gets you much of nothing, Little Spark. Respect is worth far more, and gives back as much as you give. Take the stars, for one. Learn them well, keep them close, and they will always lead you home. And when they bring you home, you be sure to thank them.”_

“You’re thinking about him.”

He took a deep breath, carefully papering over the cracks in his heart. He knew Shiro would see them no matter what. But he also knew that Shiro would respect his need to do so, like a comforting habit, no different to the way he rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. “Hard not to,” he rasped, voice thick with something he refused to name. Shiro, being Shiro — may the gods that Shiro worshipped bless him, or the stars, if that was what he wished — said nothing more, only turned his body inward so there was more of him to press against, so there was a shoulder upon which Keith could pillow his head. There was the faintest brush of lips in his hair, and Keith answered with his arm slipping around Shiro’s waist.

He was here. He was present, so long as Shiro was, too.

“Hey, look.”

He followed where Shiro’s finger pointed, to a particularly bright star, almost blue in its brightness. “We can make up our own constellations. Make up our own stories.”

Keith shook his head, smiling. “Not much point, though. We’re not staying here long. When we go, no one’s gonna know them.”

“But we will,” Shiro, certain as steel, as love and devotion and all the good things life can give. “Come on. Pick one as a North Star. Pick one that can lead us home.”

“Shiro. I’m already home.”

They drew their constellations anyway, and told their stories. And if Keith spent his hours copying that planet’s star maps and writing down those constellations and stories, no one needed ever know.

 

 

 


End file.
